


Minutes, Hours, Everything

by missema



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Corval, Courtly Life, F/M, Intrigue, Jiyel, Married Couple, Married Life, Orgy, Prompt Fic, Sex Tropes, Vail Isle, after the summit, at the summit, prompt bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: Kyara of Hise and Prince Zarad and Princess Nadine of Arland and Duke Lyon featured in some short fills, mostly from prompts. Feel free to prompt on tumblr for more.





	1. The Fountain - Lyon/Nadine

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I'm sorry but swimming in the fountain isn't allowed."

"Oh Lyon, you never told me there was a fountain!" Nadine said ecstatically as they pulled up to his main estate. 

He watched as she took in the house, not nearly as grand as the palace in Arland where she'd grown up, but she didn't seem to mind. For a moment her curly black hair obscured her face as she twisted in the seat, trying to take it all in. Was it wrong of him to be proud of a house he barely gave thought to, just because she seemed to like it already? Since he'd inherited his title, Lyon had done little but maintain the houses and the grounds his father had worked so diligently to acquire. Nadine gave a faint gasp as they came up the drive, the garden around it in full bloom with imported, exotic flowers. She'd slept for much of the last part of their journey through Jiyel to his house and had missed the neighboring cities and houses. 

Truthfully, he hadn't said much about his estates at all, and she never inquired about his house, other than to confirm it was ready for her to move in upon their arrival in Jiyel and to ask for the address to give to her mother. She may have heard about them from the ambassador; that man was given to carrying on in a way that Lyon couldn't abide but she'd never questioned him about them.

No, their conversations on the Isle had rightly been mostly about themselves, their families and pasts, their lives. Seven weeks wasn't much time at all to meet and form relationships with total strangers from other countries. Lyon knew so much about Nadine, the princess that had unexpectedly broken through every misgiving he'd harbored about coming and made him fall in love, but they knew so little overall. She hadn't asked about his home or how to get there and didn't know what life in Jiyel was like, other than it was to be with him. Nadine hadn't required more than that.

When their carriage stopped, Nadine didn't wait to be helped from it. The new Duchess jumped down on her own and went over to the fountain that had captured her attention on the way up the drive. It was hidden behind the gates that led to his house, an extravagance that his father had put in so the world could start witnessing the majesty of their house right at the entrance.

"Oh, there's no fish in it," Nadine said as he joined her, sounding far too disappointed.

"No, I never thought to put any in," Lyon admitted. He was going to add that she certainly could, but then was lost in thinking about the proper types of aquatic life for that kind of fountain.

"Can I swim in it?" she asked, brightening. Nadine's large grin still made him weak in the knees whenever she directed it at him as it was now. She looked from him to the fountain, considering. She sat down on the edge of it, taking off her glove to trail her fingertips through the clear water.

Lyon shook his head, not bothering to hide his answering smile. “I’m sorry but swimming in the fountain isn’t allowed.”

Nadine gave him a look, just the merest glint of mischief in her green eyes and Lyon knew. She was going to swim in it anyway, no matter what he'd said or whether or not it was proper. Nadine had enough of proper to last her more than a few lifetimes, and was quite tired of it. Lyon expected she'd try tonight, if not sooner. He sighed, he couldn't help it, and Nadine gave her cheery laugh as she flicked the water from her hand at his face. Lyon took off his splattered glasses and gave her a scowl he didn't really feel, just to hear that laugh renewed.

He'd think of better things to keep her busy tonight, otherwise the servants would talk of finding their naked duchess in the fountain. It would be better all around for him to keep the naked duchess in bed anyway. Such thoughts were not normally like him, but Nadine was distracting in that way and his imaginings had consumed him from the moment they'd left on the ship headed towards Jiyel. Neither one of them had any practice before each other, and books, the ones that weren't banned, were more technical than truly helpful. The truly inventive books about pleasure were just too much for them, novices as they were, so Lyon had decided that only experience and time could truly teach them each other. Luckily, Nadine agreed and they'd decided to spend what time they could in the pursuit.

He held out his hand and she clasped it, putting her cold, wet hand in his as she got up. Lyon only flinched a little, which made her laugh again. She gave the fountain one last look before turning to him.

"Show me everything, then show me to bed," she said, and then stood on her toes to give him a kiss that landed somewhere near his chin.

Now that they were away from Vail Isle at home, there was plenty of time for everything. Finally, after everything, they had time together.


	2. Freckles - Lyon/Nadine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?"

Nadine had made him a picnic, but Lyon failed to understand the appeal of eating while sitting on the ground. They'd done it once on the Isle too, but then he had no other designs on his time, nothing but endless days to read and spend hours with her in whatever way she wanted. When he voiced his opinion about eating at ground level, she gave him a stern look and told him to "just enjoy the sunshine".

He had gone along with her happy, inane chatter and eaten the food, but unlike on the Isle where she'd engaged him in spirited conversation afterwards, Nadine wasn't listening to him. A dreamy look had settled into her eyes and she was distracted from his words. After a few minutes she lay down on the blanket, interrupting him to tell him it was almost a tradition to do so. Apparently in Arland, the custom after a picnic was to lie on the blanket and do nothing, which he really didn't have time for. When he protested, his wife gave him eyes as big as saucers and he let himself be pushed back onto the ground as she discreetly loosened her dress after eating. He pretended not to notice.

"This garden isn't as colorful as the one out front, but I do love it all the same," she said, looking around them. She settled into the crook of his arm and quieted, and he turned his head just so he could smell her hair.

"Laying like this can lead to indigestion after eating," he murmured, but Nadine gave him no answer.

Eventually his eyes closed, and Lyon had to admit that this was better than he'd expected. When Nadine shifted, he didn't even open his eyes, not until he felt the touch of her finger on his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You have freckles. They are very faint, but I noticed them the first time you kissed me on the Isle."

"So you're counting them now?" he asked. Nadine didn't answer, but sat up and then moved closer to him. When she straddled his chest and carefully peered down at his face, he couldn't help but give her a grimace. Nadine loved testing boundaries now that she could.

"Nadine, we can't do this here in the garden."

"Relax, Lyon. We're both fully clothed and even if we weren't, this is our home. Where else can we do things like this?" she asked with a laugh.

She proceeded to sit there across him, dress hitched up to accommodate the spread of her thighs across his chest. The way she was sitting was impacting his breathing ever so slightly, but Lyon wasn't about to ask her to move. Suddenly the whole picnic had gone from somewhat relaxing to strangely charged as Nadine sat on him playing connect the dots on his face. She giggled softly as she took off his glasses, setting them carefully on the ground next to his head.

He thought she might finish with a kiss or even just leave him laying there but she kept right on touching his face, drawing faint lines with the tip of her finger. Lyon sighed. This was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon.

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?" he asked softly, catching her hand in his. She ceased immediately, grinning down at him.

"I was wondering how long you'd put up with me."

"For the rest of my life, hopefully. But that isn't why I asked you to stop. I'm certain that if you go on sitting like that for much longer things are going to get uncomfortable."

"And as much as I'd like to do _that_ out in the garden, you're probably already due to leave for some meeting or session already," she pointed out, with only a small pout. Lyon gave her a grim smile, but didn't disagree.

Nadine leaned down to kiss him, her dark curls tickling his face before her lips connected with his. Lyon was nearly ready to give into the urge that surged through him, heating every part of him under Nadine's kiss. Her tongue swept into his mouth, hungry, searching and his tongue met hers with equal fervor.

His mind was already leaning towards staying with her, watching the sunlight soak into her skin as she bared herself completely between the high hedges, and the thought of another meeting with General Falon decided him. Lyon had been late last time too, but then because he just hadn't wanted to go and the general simply grumbled the word "Newlyweds" at him, as if it were an accusation. Falon didn't deserve his punctuality, not today with Nadine right here and him ready, the bodice of her dress gaping so spectacularly he could put both hands down it and still have room. He gripped her tighter, pulling her back in when she made to break the kiss, letting a hand run up and down the small of her back as she leaned into him.

"I can be late," he muttered to her when they finally broke the kiss, relishing the warm answering grin he got from her as she leaned in for another kiss.


	3. Stuck - Zarad/Kyara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Quit asking me how I got stuck up here and just catch me!"

Zarad had to admit that of the delegates here, Kyara, his Kyara, was the only one that managed to be interesting. At this very moment, Zarad was quite interested in how she'd come to be standing on the roof of the gazebo. There she was in what had once been a very becoming light blue day dress, sun glinting off of her dusky mahogany skin as she stood on the gazebo.

"Zarad, please, help me down!" she hissed at him, excited fear making her words louder than she'd intended.

"How did you get up there, my dove?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," she insisted, but Zarad bit back a laugh.

"I'm sure it does," he answered. When she wouldn't answer, he went on, "As does the why part of the question I hadn't yet asked. How did you manage to get stuck on the roof of the gazebo and why are you up there, dear Kyara?" He couldn't keep the laughter from his voice.

"Quit asking how I got stuck up here and just catch me." She was grumbling now, but he was certain she'd tell him. He had, in fact, gone to the top of that gazebo himself and knew that it was too far to jump. There was a convenient little lattice around the side, but when Zarad went over to it, he saw a ripped piece of fabric fluttering near the top. She had tried to get down that way, but obviously couldn't. Dragging a nearby chair to the lattice, he stood on it and grabbed the telltale piece of Kyara's dress and tucked it away in a pocket.

"Wait," Zarad said, serious as he came back into her line of sight, "You can't just fall into my arms in a ripped dress. I'm going to need to sneak you back into the castle."

"Zarad, I need to use the privy. Just help me down and we can worry about propriety later or I'm going to go on your head."

He chuckled, but then asked the real question, "How badly is your dress torn?"

"I'm going to need a new dress, but more than that can you just please catch me?"

Zarad got her to the edge of the lattice, which shook ominously under her slight weight and caught her from the top of there after bracing himself. Kyara was correct that she was going to need a new dress, but in his arms she was just a bundle of dirty folds of fabric and a grateful smile. That smile, her dimples and far too misleading, cutely freckled cherubic face were all he needed in this world. Zarad took the chance to steal a kiss, which Kyara didn't seem to mind, if he was any judge. 

"You're filthy," he muttered, taking in the stains of some unknowable mixture of grease and ash that had left a sizeable black smudge that ran up the arm of her dress. Her dark brown eyes twinkled merrily as she answered him.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

Instead of going straight inside, he set her down in the gazebo, managed to procure a blanket and tucked it around her and instructed her to lean on him as they went inside. It looked like she'd just taken a nasty fall now rather than had been on top of the gazebo. She'd obviously laid down atop it, doing whatever it was she was doing, probably listening in on some conversation. He'd have to ask later if it was worth it.

"Thank you," she said and leaned in to kiss his cheek as he left her at her door. He'd give her time to get redressed and attend to whatever needs she had. It would take him at least twenty minutes to get back to her side of the building without anyone noticing, and then he'd slip in the window.

"Of course," Zarad answered and winked at her. Kyara nodded her dusty head at him, ever so slightly before disappearing into her room, the worried face of her redheaded maid just visible behind the door. She knew he'd be back soon.


	4. Whatever he's saying, he's lying - Zarad/Kyara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!”

These games, their little intrigues were dangerous, but that hadn't put her off them yet.

Life with Zarad was never dull. Kyara had worried that a proper life in the Corval court might be the kind of boring that comes when drama is de rigeur, an overblown mess of simple people acting out their lives in the least interesting and honest way possible. Oh, Corval had plenty of that, but Zarad also knew what was real and how to suss it out despite all the falseness that abounded. He was a good husband like that.

So when he asked her to help him 'take care of a delicate courtly matter' and that courtly matter had them acting out quite the dramatic scene, she was intrigued rather than put off. She could always have refused; Zarad let her know that 'no' was always an option, but Kyara had to admit, sometimes the overblown intrigue was diverting.

"What are we doing here?" Kyara asked when he finally bothered to show up to a small, private garden that he'd asked her to meet him in via a note delivered by his sister that morning.

Zarad wasn't dressed like himself, but that was hardly surprising. They were after all, taking care of something. Clearly she needed to be recognized for it to work, and he didn't want or need to be himself. Kyara didn't ask questions, but rather tried to let her intellect fill in the gaps where she could and make her own inferences. It was the best way to impress Zarad and keep herself mentally two steps ahead of the Corval viper's nest.

Short, blonde hair topped Zarad's head, and she wondered just where he'd hidden all of his luxuriously long locks to get that awful wig on. He could have been kin to Earl Emmett in that get up but when she told him that, he frowned.

"I didn't mean to resemble our friend the Earl, but luckily I have it on good information that he is safely in Arland with his new bride and they are happy as two clams."

"Truly? I hadn't thought him and the lady from Jiyel so well-suited," Kyara admitted, but Zarad hushed her.

"They are, but not as well as you and I, my dove. She should tell him soon that they're going to be parents. She's about three months gone."

"So soon? Wait." Kyara counted backwards in her head quickly and then laughed. "At the Summit? I didn't think Emmett had it in him."

"I daresay it was she that had it in her, but it's nice to know we weren't the only ones that couldn't wait until we got home. We can talk more about it later, for now, sit down on the bench and kiss me," he instructed and Kyara lit up.

"If that's what you demand, my Prince, I must comply" she said, and Zarad snorted at her before she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Kyara pulled back after just a scant minute and whispered to him, "It's important that I look like I'm less than faithful, I get that, but is it at least for the right reasons?" She tried to look as if she didn't care, and yet her attempt to hide only made it worse. She loved Zarad, so deeply and passionately that she'd always help him, even in things like this, but she needed a last reassurance that it was, well, the right thing to do.

His eyes, always so full of light when he looked at her, dimmed just a little as he answered. "When you're lost at sea, sometimes you have to make a hard correction to get back to the correct course. I fear we'll have to make several in the coming months." He was tired, her man, and she knew it wasn't from lack of sleep. Zarad could sleep for a month and he would still be as weary in his soul. That kind of tiredness took longer and more to replenish.

She smiled at him, took his hand in hers and gave him another, sweeter, softer kiss. Then another, less sweet this time, and the next banished any hint of sweetness altogether for the promise of something hotter. It was a fire they'd both feed in alternating, spinning rounds until they were drawn to the center of their game, to each other, inexorably with nothing to do but let it burn, the heat that they'd so deliciously built up.

They passed an enjoyable half hour like that, and she only once forgot the wig and tried to put a hand in his hair. She missed it; his hair was one of the things she most loved to touch whenever her hands were free. Once back in Corval, with relative privacy and off the Isle, she'd laid in bed with him for hours and more than once he'd found himself with tiny braids and ponytails of her making. But she made due on this stone bench, forgetting the cool hardness of it under her backside and letting Zarad and his terrible wig, the uncharacteristically dull clothes and rather boring but expensive shoes kiss her senseless.

"As much as I regret to say so, I think that's enough for now," Zarad told her after at least a half hour had passed in this way. "Here, I've brought you an illuminating book to read, princess. Make sure you get to the end before you get up and go to the carriage that awaits you outside. I fear I won't see you again until at least dinner, if not later."

"Bright stars," Kyara said softly, sending him off with a traditional Hise saying. Zarad grinned at her from under his awful wig and pressed a last kiss to two of her fingers.

"And fair winds to you, my Kyara," he breathed back to her and then made to go.

He was just about to leave when he turned and said, "Oh Kyara, if anyone asks you must say, 'Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!', and you'll know when it needs to be said." He blew her a kiss, her flirtatious lover once again, and then truly did leave.

Kyara let a small sigh escape her before she picked up her new book. Indeed she would know when to say her line, because she read the last page in the book, which had no other interesting pages but the last one. Zarad and all of his machinations were so delightfully intriguing, she could almost get caught up in them if she wanted. The best part was knowing that when it became too much, they'd sail away and visit her father. That thought was as comforting as the kiss he gave her that night, back to his usual self, when he told her that all went to plan.


	5. All Sacrificed For Love - Zarad/Kyara

He had once thought that only Corval needed him, and Corval only needed him a little. He wasn't like his brothers, wasn't indispensable, merely useful. Zarad was wrong, oh was he ever wrong. Kyara more than needed him, she wanted him.

That was enough to make him hope that she wouldn't pick him, even though he told the matchmaker that yes, he wanted to be with her.

This delightful little island, which he thought would provide nothing more than an amusing distraction, was giving him pause. This pirate was giving him pause, and there were things he needed to tell her, because she might hate him.

He had to give her the chance to hate him. If she was smart, she'd take him up on it.

Zarad knew she was smarter than he was, because he couldn't tell her no. He wouldn't tell her no, he wouldn't make that decision for her. She was a star, Kyara, and she deserved the chance, at least in this, to make her own decision. Stars had to shine for everyone, not matter how much it seemed like her light seemed was there to guide him home.

But what if her decision was someone else? He could bear it, he was sure of it. It was just hard to picture her, her with her quick mind and daring nature, with someone, anyone else. He was selfish like that. Zarad wanted her to himself, but couldn't reconcile that with a life that was barely his to begin with.

This dinner was interminable. He had hoped it would be over soon, but it was another long evening capping an equally long day. Vail Isle didn't stint on keeping them busy, that was for certain. Even Blain the pain was looking a little ragged, his scowl not as sharp as usual. Zarad flicked a grin at him across the table, and was rewarded by one of Blain's most excellent glowers. Zarad almost laughed at it, but he managed to hide the chuckle in time. He had to keep his fellow Corvali on his feet after all.

To all appearances, it might have looked like he wasn't listening as the matchmaker started speaking. He didn't dare look at Kyara directly, but kept her in the corner of his eye. She was deeply interested in her wine goblet for the duration of the matchmaker's speech, until the end. Her head lifted a little as the list came to a close. What might have been the beginning of a smile formed around the corners of her mouth, quickly smothered by a drink from her surely almost empty goblet.

The matchmaker announced his name. Prince Zarad and Lady Kyara.

He almost hadn't been expecting it to happen, if he was entirely honest, but he was far too skilled in not changing his expression to let his surprise show. The mask of easy, affable Zarad smiled cheekily at the people around him, but he never let on his intense relief and joy.

Maybe he'd let Kyara see it, if she asked. She'd ask, he knew she would. That's what Kyara did. She cut away all the extra, all the fakery and nonsense and left him bare. She'd done it on their first night together, under the stars.

When they spoke that night, they couldn't say anything. There were too many eyes, too many smiles. She passed him a note as they talked, and he wondered when she had time to write it. It was warm from her hand, and he decided she'd been carrying it around since she'd met with the matchmaker that afternoon.

_Zarad, I don't expect being with you is going to be the easiest thing in the world, only the most wonderful. Yours, Kyara._

Was she his? Even if she was now, would she stay his? She was right that it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world, and he supposed he should have some faith that it might be wonderful, but he wasn't sure. In his quieter moments he hoped, sometimes even prayed that this was the right thing to do, that he wasn't just being selfish.

Kyara deserved more than that, more than him, but he wanted her like he'd never wanted anything else. He'd break this world in half to make her happy. It was more than he had ever promised Corval, but he didn't doubt she was more than worthy of such.


	6. Orgy - Nadine/Lyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: orgy  
> which I couldn't actually make work in-character, so here they are being somewhat naive about an invitation they've gotten.

This wasn't what he'd expected the invitation to be.

Lyon was often invited to places he didn't want to go, to meet people he didn't care to know. Since he'd married, the invitations had only increased, not decreased as he'd hope. Nadine was an anomaly in Jiyel, an Arlish Princess who married in, and apparently loved her husband a great deal. Lyon never heard rumors about them directly, but he knew they existed, mostly because whenever he had the chance to see Avalie, she told him so. 

It was a shame that Nadine was actually friends with her, otherwise Lyon could have happily avoided Lady Avalie for the rest of his life. He'd never really liked her, but after the Summit, there was more dislike than respect from his view. She played too many games, and reminded him far too fiercely of Grand Duke Woodly, whom Lyon despised.

But Avalie brought Nadine gossip and news from others, and sometimes tales of how Jiyel saw the two of them. The rumors spoke of their devotion, of the woman that had him bewitched, leading him by the throat since Vail Isle. Others said that Lyon was too cold to love her properly, and the timid Arlish Princess sat ignored in his home, despite being sociable and pretty. Nothing could be further from the truth -- they were entirely happy together -- but that sort of thing didn't set imaginations on fire. Lyon didn't care about what other people thought, but the invitations kept coming because people were curious and bold, and a few from people that were sincere in their own way.

Nadine was far kinder than he was, but far less experienced in the myriad types of nasty people could be. If he could, he'd shield her from it forever, the two of them out in their estate, living in the easy, comfortable bliss they'd made together. He'd read books and write papers, occasionally attend lectures with her, and she'd entertain small groups, make friends and they'd go on walks just so she could make sure they were both getting outside enough. There were dinners, baths together, and new books to read. It was the type of quiet companionship he'd never really thought possible until he had it.

She liked the going out, meeting people, keeping up the correspondence, going out for dinners and plays or whatever entertainment there was, but Nadine never forced him to go out. Lyon did, occasionally, just to keep her company, but they had an agreement about such things. She did what she wanted, and he the same. If she wanted him to go with her for some reason, more often than not he did, without reservation or bargaining. It was lonely in the house without her on those nights, but he didn't begrudge her going out. Freedom was new to Nadine, and Lyon had no wish to deter her from it.

But then this invitation came, another party, but specifically requesting that they both attend. Nadine was of two minds about going, up until the night of, when she asked him to accompany her. They dressed, Lyon rather mulishly, he had other things on his mind than another party, and Nadine happily in a new dress. She was always so pleased with her new clothes, the dresses of Jiyel were less constricting and ornate than those of Arland, and she was able to dress more provocatively as a married woman, which they both enjoyed. 

The party wasn't thrown by one person, but a group with a name he wasn't familiar with. It was perfectly ordinary, but when they arrived, they were given masks. Not that a mask could truly hide the identity of him, with his hair and his height, or Nadine with her hair and coloring. 

"I didn't realize it was a masquerade," Nadine whispered to him apologetically. He squeezed her hand in answer, wordlessly forgiving the minor lapse. Hopefully she'd be bored soon enough and they could leave. He didn't see the point in dancing around in masks.

There was no dancing.

When he saw the first group through the glass pane, people he probably would recognize clothed, he was dumbstruck. 

The rooms were lit only with the dimmest of lanterns, faces and people obscured by the darkness. The scent of sweat and sweet, smoky incense teased them further into the party. Masked servants dressed in head to toe black opened doors like specters, hanging in the shadows until they were needed, then seamlessly stepping back into them, vanishing until called upon again. Nadine stopped in the center of a hallway and turned, simply turned to look after a noise caught her attention.

This wasn't just any masquerade party. Lyon followed Nadine's gaze to see a large mass of limbs that belonged to several people laid out on a bed, and one man standing above them, apparently ready to service them all if the size of his erection was anything to go by. He had a whip in one hand and was laughing. It sounded wild to his ears, but not in a way that made him feel anything but apprehension for the people on the bed.

The scenes before them, people laid out like a buffet -- well he knew of such practices, and that they weren't just written fantasies, but it was something else to see it in practice. It wasn't horrifying in that it was done, but it was so far from his own tastes that Lyon couldn't help but be angry about being lured here. How dare people invite, no, trick him and Nadine into coming to such a party?! The nobles of Jiyel, for surely it was they behind the masks, knew him, knew he wouldn't come on his own. This, whatever it was -- crude humiliation or an attempt to draw them out -- was done to them, not just him, but he and Nadine.

Nadine led him out, after he heard her gasp and then a small, nervous giggle. Neither of them were of the right disposition for this kind of display, and Nadine, Arlish Nadine, was much too reserved. Whatever they had learned together in bed was always going to be private, between just the two of them, not as a sporting spectacle for a crowd of masked strangers. She took him by the hand as he stared at his shoes, face flaming. Her words were gentle and diplomatic, when he would have shouted his outrage, were he able.

"We must have been invited by mistake," she'd said simply. No condemnation or offering of other excuses, just politely and firmly handing back their masks before stepping out into the chill night air.

It took him until they got home to process what they'd seen. An orgy. They'd accepted an invite to an orgy and had gone.

One day they'd laugh about this, he hoped. If he could ever stop the awkward shame that was summoned whenever he thought about it.

They never got another invite like that again.


End file.
